It's a road that leads to ruins. "Don't go down it!" screams your head, but your heart will tumble down it anyway.

My rib cage is in dissarray with all the swelling lies I tried to swallow.

This always leaves me feeling hollow; I don't know why I keep taking it in.

It hits my bloodstream and I'm on fire, but not even long enough for your eyes to gleam with any desire to be anything but a hearse for hire.

Just one glimpse and I blink out a novel.

It's ridiculous.

Maybe for once I will scowl at the next walking concept that tries to sweep me off my feet,

Rather than take it in like it's a poor soul who needs a home.